


A Weekly Commitment

by orphan_account



Series: Fondue-niverse [2]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Angst, Anniversaries, Confusion, Fondue, Kissing, M/M, Non-OTP Relationship, One-Sided Relationship, Pining, break-ups, sort of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-08-09
Updated: 2012-08-09
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:42:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fifty fondue dates later, it's the anniversary of Tony and Steve's first fondue night.<br/>Things would have been going great, if it weren't for Tony's new girl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Standing Appointment

“It would be very rousing. I think you would quite enjoy it, Captain!” Thor cried, beaming. “Would you like to come along?” 

“Sorry, Thor,” Steve replied, smiling apologetically. “I can’t tonight.” 

“Ah, yes. Of course. It’s Thursday night,” Thor said, nodding to himself and smiling widely. “Send the Man of Iron my salutations.” 

Steve couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips. “I will. Enjoy your movie, Thor.” The Norse God left the apartment shortly afterward, leaving Steve to badly attempt reading a book and watch the clock. Tony was never ready for fondue before seven and, though he told Steve he was welcome to come earlier, he found the supersoldier a nuisance if he came any earlier. 

Steve frowned a bit to himself as his eyes drifted from the clock to the calendar hung beneath it. Tony laughed at his old-fashioned ways, the physical calendar of paper and dates a source of never-ending amusement to him. He frequently reminded Steve that his StarkPhone had the date on it and a convenient calendar-planner function. 

He looked at the date and sighed heavily. Technically tomorrow marked the one year mark since their first fondue night, but it felt like an anniversary anyway. He flushed in embarrassment and dropped his eyes back down to the copy of Prince Caspian from the marked calendar. 

It wasn’t an anniversary, he told himself. They weren’t in a relationship—Tony wasn’t sweet on him at all. Tony had a girl. It was apparently very serious: Tony had introduced her to the Avengers at the last group Fondue night. Her name was Brie Daniels and Steve knew, objectively, that she was a very beautiful woman. Tall and slender as the modern ideal admired, with long blonde hair that was curled artfully as well as the high cheekbones and vibrant blue eyes Tony seemed to favour. 

She’d fumbled with the fondue, dropping in a square of bread into the pot. Steve watched on, fighting to conceal his jealousy as she followed the etiquette and kissed Tony. It was almost lewd with its enthusiasm and Steve had been unable to fight off his scowl. When Brie had turned to Natasha and given an equal gesture, Tony had turned to Steve to share his mirth. Steve could only stare at the bright red gloss rubbed into Tony’s lips, jaw clenching. They turned down in a frown and Steve stood quickly, excusing himself with a murmured apology. 

Tony and fondue were entirely to blame for the whole mess. Particularly that tradition. In the low light, nearly a year ago now, Tony had explained—hand wrapped warm and firm around Steve’s wrist as he tried to reclaim the square of bread from the pot. 

Steve had flushed in embarrassment, still not quite over the shame of misunderstanding the implications of the evening. Steve had licked his lips as Tony moved closer, nervous. His lips were surprisingly soft, the kiss gentle—facial hair pleasant on his sensitive skin. His tongue had tasted like chocolate and strawberries as it briefly flicked inside his mouth. 

Steve had whimpered a little when the engineer had pulled away. Tony exhaled shakily. “Damn it,” he whispered, forehead leaned against Steve’s. “Why is it the one time I try and be moral it’s this tempting?” 

Steve frowned, confused. Tony pulled away, shaking his head. “So, fondue...” 

Steve jumped, snapping back to the present when his StarkPhone trilled with the announcement of an email. He glanced at the screen and put it away with a frown. Fury and his concerns about Spiderman could wait—everyone knew that Thursday nights were standing commitment. After the two times a villain had attacked New York on Thursday nights, even the criminal classes had learned to take the night off. 

(There may have been twenty Doombots beaten to shrapnel by Captain America’s shield and Doctor Doom hung, weeping with fear, from an impossibly high flagpole by Ironman. Steve regretted only the broken knuckles that took a week to heal.) 

Tony had never missed an evening. A couple of times he’d had to hold important meetings over the phone, giving them half his attention while he silently battled Steve for the best fruits. But he’s always been there, and there was always fondue. 

At least it meant that if Tony was aware of his feelings, he didn’t mind them. He was probably used to people wanting him when he didn’t reciprocate. Tony was brilliant, but he wasn’t exactly warm to everyone. Few people had this exception—Pepper, Bruce and Steve; at least those were the ones he knew about. Even Coulson, whose supposed death had given him such vicious motivation, and Rhodey, Tony’s self-proclaimed best friend, were still treated almost callously. 

He looked up at the clock and leapt to his feet eagerly before he could stop himself. Blushing in the privacy of his own apartment, he forced himself to walk sedately over to the kitchen bench to collect his keys from the bowl. 

He’d stop letting Tony send Happy to get him a few weeks in. He had his own transportation, even a parking space in Stark Tower (that everyone but Pepper referred to as ‘Avengers Tower’). Besides, he liked his bike. It was custom made, given to him by a motorcycle company as...sponsorship or something. Steve wasn’t sure what he was being sponsored for, since it was prior to his joining the Avengers but Fury hadn’t allowed him to question it. 

He was halfway to the tower before he was aware of it. Shaking his head at his own distraction, he turned into the underground parking lot. “Evening, Jarvis,” he greeted. 

“Hello Captain,” the AI answered. “Shall I tell Mister Stark you’ve arrived?” 

“I’m sure he’s expecting me, don’t worry yourself, Jarvis.” Steve said, smiling. The elevator pinged as it reached the top floor and the doors opened smoothly. He unwrapped his scarf and hung it up on the hook beside the door. “Tony!” he called. “I’m here.” No answer came and he shrugged, taking off his motorcycle jacket. “Hey, do you have any more of those imported mangoes left? I’ve been craving them all week...” 

He trailed off, spotting Brie standing by the mirror, clearly dressed up for a night out. “Hello,” he said awkwardly. 

She gave him a cold look. “Tony!” she said, turning to yell back towards the house. “Steve is here!” 

The engineer appeared, tying his tie with a frown. “Cap?” He asked, confused. “What are you doing here?” 

Steve’s stomach sunk. “It’s Thursday.” 

“Thursday? What—ohh.” Tony shuffled guiltily. “Fondue Night.” He finished buttoning his tie. “I thought we could do it tomorrow night instead.” 

Steve felt utterly devastated. “Why? We always do Thursday night. Even the League of Villains know that.” 

“Tony, darling, we’re going to be late,” Brie cooed, hanging on to his arm. She turned to Steve and gave him a bland smile. “We’re going to a movie premiere.” 

“Right,” Steve said. He set his jaw and straightened his posture. “You two enjoy your night. Is it okay if I use the gym?” 

“You’re always welcome to anything in the Tower, Cap,” Tony said, still frowning in agitation. 

Steve hummed in acknowledgement, catching Brie’s flash of irritated expression though Tony didn’t. He nodded to them both and headed back into the elevator. 

He destroyed three punching bags and didn’t feel guilty. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fondue etiquette claims that if you drop the bread in the cheese, a man has to buy a round of drinks. A woman must kiss her neighbours. Either Tony shamelessly takes advantage, or he doesn't make a gender differential. You decide...


	2. Commitment to the Team

Steve turned off his phone and voluntarily went to the Helicarrier the next day for paperwork. If Fury was surprised, he didn’t show it. He advised they keep an eye on Spiderman, but until the superhero looked like he wanted to help or needed help of his own, they’d leave him to his own business. Steve suspected he was very young, but he didn’t want to share that with Fury. 

Then he trained with Black Widow and Hawkeye, ignoring their concerned looks as he fought them. The spar only ended when Natasha shot him through with enough electricity to knock him down. When they left to nurse their bruises, he took out a punching bag and didn’t stop until his knuckles were bloody and sand was spilling over the gym floor. 

Fury benched him until he had ‘sorted his aggression out’ but Steve would be back once his knuckles had healed. He trudged up the stairs to his apartment and found Tony pounding angrily on the door. 

He was growling. “Goddamnit, Steven Rogers. I know you’re in there! Open this damn door!” 

“Watch your language, Mister Stark,” Steve barked angrily. “There are children on this floor.” 

Tony whirled around, startled. “Oh, you’re actually not at home. Where have you been?” He asked, slipping from anger to happy curiosity.” 

Steve checked his watch. Midnight. “The Helicarrier.” He stepped past Tony to unlock the door. “It’s late. Go home.” 

Tony’s expression faltered. “What?” 

“Go home, Tony,” Steve repeated stubbornly, turning around in the door so the engineer couldn’t get through the open way. “It’s past midnight.” 

Tony’s gaze and moved from confusion at Steve’s face to concern at the bloodied knuckles of Steve’s hand on the door. He cleared his throat and tucked his hand back behind the door. “Do you need to call Happy?” 

Tony visibly came back to the conversation. “What? Steve, we were supposed to fondue tonight.” 

“Thursday is Fondue Night, Tony,” Steve replied coolly, the anger he’d been working off all day simmering back to the surface. “You were too busy last night.” 

“But...” Tony frowned. “We said we’d do tonight instead.” 

“No, _you said,_ ” Steve replied stubbornly. “I didn’t agree.” 

“But today was our...” Tony trailed off, looking at Steve with a hurt expression. 

“Was our _what_ , Stark?” He demanded. 

“Our...” He faltered and shook his head. “Never mind. I’m sorry, Steve. Are we still on for next week?” 

Steve sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Tony. You’re obviously getting really serious about your girl. Maybe it’s a good thing that your priorities are changing.” 

“Steve, don’t. Please,” Tony begged. “I hate seeing you so upset about this.” 

“I’m not upset,” the supersoldier replied quietly. “I do like Brie—I’m happy for the two of you. I just wish you’d told me beforehand.” 

“Let me make it up to you,” Tony said. “Everything’s all set up at the Avenger’s tower, just come fondue with me.” 

“It’s not a good idea,” Steve replied softly. “I’m going to bed. If there’s no crisis before next week, we’ll talk on Thursday.” 

He closed the door, wincing when he heard the broken “Steve, please...” before the door settled into its frame. His breathing hitched and pressed his forehead against the door, waiting. Tony stood there for a long time, unmoving. Then with a heavy sigh, the engineer sighed and turned to walk down the hallway. 

Steve slid down the door and sat curled up against the wood. It was for the best. It had to be. 

Dawn found him pressed against the door, Avengers communicator ringing shrilly from across the room. Heaving himself to his feet, he shuffled toward the kitchen, tense muscles loosening as he walked. 

He picked the communicator up and slipped it into his ear. “Captain America,” he announced. 

“Thank god,” Fury growled furiously. “Suit up and get to Central Park. Ten minutes ago.” 

“I’ve been benched, sir,” Steve pointed out, confused. 

“Damnit, Rogers! I can’t have half my team benched and you’re in a better fighting condition than Romanov and Barton. I’m sending Thor to pick you up. Get dressed and get on your roof in five minutes or I let him crash through your bedroom wall.” The click signalled the end of the call and Steve went to change. 

Flying with Thor was different, jostled with turbulence and skin prickling with electricity. Steve preferred being passenger on the Ironman suit. With things as they were, he didn’t get into his reasons why. He spent enough time dwelling on Tony, he didn’t need an excuse to do it more often. 

The glowing white eyes of the Ironman suit followed their descent as Thor landed them in Central Park. Tony’s voice was cold and petty as it came over his headset: “since when do you get lifts from the Caped Wonder, Rogers?” 

Steve glared at him, jaw clenched. “What’s the situation, _Ironman_?” 

“Doombots targeting picnics, Captain,” Tony replied sullenly. 

“How many?” Thor asked. 

“Twenty so far, but we started with ten so they’re either multiplying or Doom’s releasing more as we work.” 

Steve nodded and hefted his shield, taking out a doombot across the way. “Ironman, you follow the Hulk.” He commanded, catching the shield as it rebounded. “Thor, you’re with me. We’ll go to the north.” 

Thor gave him a surprised look. “Captain?” He said. “Are you sure. You usually pair me and the Hulk together.” 

Steve glared. “You have your orders. Get to it.” 

“Steve...” 

“Ironman! You can shirk my orders later. Go!” He growled. 

The mask stayed faced to him for a few more moments, then Tony lifted off. The battle was messy, not at all helped by the snow that began to fall halfway through the battle. 

Steve slammed his shield into another robot’s face, breaking it off and disabling the machanisms. He grunted as his half-healed knuckles lit with pain, standing back and surveying the wreckage. “Ironman, report.” 

“Getting close to the transporter.” Tony’s voice came through the earpiece. “I think Doom’s inside.” 

“Tony, don’t even think about it,” he said sharply. “Disable Doombots. Do not engage Dr Doom.” 

“Sorry, Capsicle, can’t hear you!” Tony sung over the communicator. 

“Ironman!” Steve bellowed, clenching his shield angrily. “I said don’t engage!” Silence answered it. “Repeat, don’t engage!” He didn’t get a reply. “Goddamnit, Stark!” 

He shook his head violently and started charging towards the south. “Thor, do you have a location on Ironman and Hulk?” 

“A large black dome south of here. You can’t miss it.” 

Steve kept going until he found the dome in question, Doombots spewing forth from an opening at the top. By the time he reached the dome, they were sparking and collapsing to the ground. He glared at the dome, its incline too sharp, the metal too smooth. He couldn’t climb to the top. 

“Thor, I need you airborne.” 

“On my way, Captain.” 

The Hulk roared in the distance, smashing the disabled robots against the ground. 

The ground started rumbling and Steve’s eyes widened. He crouched quickly, covering himself with the shield. The dome broke with a boom, collapsing in on itself. 

He launched to his feet, staring at the rubble with desperate eyes. “Ironman, report.” No answer came, mouth growing dry. “Tony! If you can hear me, say something damn it!” 

“Steve?” Tony’s voice was very weak, vague with the implication that Tony had no idea what was going on. 

“Thank God,” Steve said, gasping a relieved breath. “Try and stay still. We’ll get you out.” 

It took two hours to find him beneath the rubble. Steve carried him from the wreckage, refusing to relinquish the armoured man until he reached the waiting ambulance. 


End file.
